Realistic High School AU
by Dragon of Dawn and the Diadem
Summary: High School, a place full of flourishing and budding students face new opportunities — a place where friendship, old and new, cultivate and prosper. Why does every single High School AU make school seem so easy? What happened to the realities of exams and pop quizzes? This is a collection of "realistic" (on some level) High School AU stories.
1. Introduction

(HUGE Disclaimer for the whole fanfiction: We absolutely do not own _Hetalia: Axis Powers_ and the rest of its series. We just own the random ideas for the fanfictions...)

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Introduction

High School, a place full of flourishing and budding students face new opportunities — a place where friendship, old and new, cultivate and prosper. Possibly new friends, a new environment — a new chance — and most of all, it is a place where love and romance blooms.

Stop. Why do we even bother coming up with excuses like these? High School isn't all about "dancing through the tulips" no matter how adults will make it seem like a haven full of raw, budding opportunities, it will never actually feel that way to the students.

That is definitely not the reality — it's way too far from it! It is a place full of suffering and torture. A place full of sleep deprived nights, furiously trying to defeat myriads of homework and projects, tests and quizzes. It's also a place where teachers seem to relish in the student's' tears of pain. Let's not forget the cherished finals. Every students' dream!

"Student's shouldn't be weighed down by too much work," declare the teachers, "Therefore, I shall only give one, small, assignment! It's just a quick one! You'll enjoy it!" Yeah, right, that's how a student ends up with an assignment for every single class they had. Brilliant.

Why does every single High School AU make school seem so easy? What happened to the realities of exams and pop quizzes? This is a collection of "realistic" (on some level) High School AU stories. This is our, us "tortured" students' time to shine.

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(Disclaimer: _we do realise this doesn't apply to every situation, and that not everything is terrible and horrid! We may or may not be over exaggerating too much…_ **Sometimes… But *cough* remember always to be grateful for everything! *cough* Or try at least. We apologize if any character seems, well, out of character. There are so many takes on the same character; we try our best.)**


	2. Chapter 1

(Disclaimer: _Why don't we start off with something…. Light and funny… Please don't be put off by the beginning… just wait and see until the end of this chapter! You'll never guess how it'd end! ;)_ **Let's just say we had a lot of fun with this. We hope you guys enjoyed it as well~** )

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Chapter 1

As always, it started off with a sunny afternoon. The wind rustled through the trees and the flowers bloomed. Sparrows played around in the grass, hoping around almost as if enjoying a game of tag. Different sorts of people strolled around, all united into admiring the beauty of nature and the environment. Just like a typical blithe afternoon. Not like Arthur had any time to admire the scenery anyways. It was almost perfect. _Almost_.

"Arrrtthuur," hysterical weeping rang throughout the area, and many pedestrians halted to stare. Well, he knew of only one person whose voice could project his name in such a manner that the R's rolled. "I definitely jinxed it," he thought with a sigh, as he forced himself to look up from his book before he was glomped by a very distraught, specific _someone_. The _specific someone_ is known as Alfred F. Jones, "self-proclaimed hero of all things freedom-related," who did not look at all heroic as he bawled waterfalls of tears out before tackling Arthur.

Arthur winced when his back collided hard into the back of the bench. It reminded Arthur of the time he tried playing American football with Alfred. He vowed, after five, torturous minutes, to never, _ever_ participate in that life-threatening sport again; however, it seems like it did not mean Arthur's injuries from Alfred would cease anytime soon.

"Arthur! She ALWAYS runs away from me… Why does she keep avoiding me? Maybe she doesn't like me?" Alfred wept onto Arthur's shoulders and clung to him like a toddler (if the toddler happened to be taller than you). His grip felt like iron; no, it felt stronger than any natural element found on earth. Now more people had stopped in their tracks to watch the attraction. Not knowing what to do, Arthur merely patted Alfred awkwardly on the shoulders. He decided to pretend that comforting his hysterical friends in the middle of the park was just a part of his everyday routine.

"Arthur, you understand me, right? She's the queen of my heart; no one else can replace her. I love her too much — she's too…" trailed of Alfred, bursting back into tears. Arthur stiffened at this revelation. How on earth was he supposed to respond to that?! Alfred loved _who_?! Since when did Alfred have a crush? Not that he really cared about Alfred's love life, of course. "What are you talking about? Do you… have a crush…?" he spluttered, although this went ignored by Alfred.

"I spent my all my money from my part-time job on her and acquired her food. MY OWN MONEY, ARTHUR!" "Uhm," said Arthur, trying to interrupt, with no avail. His shirt was getting more soaked by each passing second. "I keep giving her food, but she still doesn't like me! I got her food! _Food_! Who says no to food? Oh… right… _her_ ," and with that, Alfred went back to weeping, clinging to Arthur's uniform. He definitely needed a change of clothes as soon as he got home, assuming Alfred did not destroy them by then.

"She keeps eluding me, Arthur. When I heard that she was nearby from my friends, I sprinted in her direction and ditched my job. I walked everywhere looking for her. I _exercised_ , Arthur, _exercised_ for her. The boss was _not_ happy that day… He doesn't understand — it's _true love_!" he sniffed, pleadingly gazing up at Arthur, who awkwardly sat on the bench, trying to console him. Every look of Arthur's eyes screamed uncomfortableness, not that Alfred noticed, as his face remained buried in Arthur's uniform. Just who on earth was this girl that Alfred had a crush on? "Do you want to continue that?" he dryly asked.

"When I got there, she ran away from me! Arthur, she _avoided_ me! At last, I was left alone with the pigeons — and rats," he added, with a dramatic flair, "Pigeons and rats. I think I saw a caterpillar and a dog somewhere too, but that's not the problem." Alfred sulked, and Arthur stiffly gave him a pat on the back. Things did seem dire if Alfred didn't proceed to rant on the superior cuteness of canines and their antics. Arthur wondered if he had ever seen the hyperactive Alfred so depressed.

"I even put sweet smelling stuff for her too as people advised. I meet her brother more than I can catch a glimpse of her! How? Usually, I can only get a glimpse of her shadow but never her." he sighed in a defeated tone. "'Sweet smelling stuff'? Do you mean _perfume_ or _cologne_ , Alfred?" awkwardly suggested Arthur, in vain attempt to keep an actual conversation going. Yet again, his futile attempts went unnoticed.

Alfred suddenly fumbled around in his backpack and excavated his phone from a pile of game consoles. Why did he need to stuff three different gaming systems into his backpack anyway? Alfred wrestled his phone from the clutches of his various chargers, which somehow managed to ensnare the poor phone like a Kraken would strangle its prey. Finally succeeding in vanquishing the multitude of tentacles, the American then furiously typed his password into the phone and promptly stuffed the metal rectangle into Arthur's face.

"See! No pictures of her! Only pictures of her shadow!" Alfred whined, and his voice quivered. Not like Arthur could see anything with the phone plastered onto his face, and of all things Alfred-related, he didn't want to admire a girl's shadow. The Brit tried to smack the phone away from his face before the artificial light could permanently blind him.

Arthur seriously contemplated what he got himself into. His eyes darted furiously around his surroundings, searching desperately for any sources for help. His eyes landed on _the frog_ , Francis Bonnefoy, to put it nicely. That preposterous, slimy, _amphibian_ was _snickering_ at him! Well, at the whole commotion, was more likely, but how dare he laugh at him!

He still couldn't miss his chance — he caught his gaze and mouthed " _help_!". Arthur's eyes blazed out at him, seeming to yell out, "Either come give me a hand me with Alfred's situation or _you can leave me alone here you little —_ ," and so forth. As Francis blanched and hesitantly walked over to them, Alfred kept on mourning for his peculiar loss. He held the phone as if in some sort of desperate, deranged prayer while mumbling some suspicious sounding words that reminded Arthur of his spell books.

"I think this is your department, Frog, do something to help him!" Arthur whispered furiously, flailing his arms about. "Ah, Alfred, _mon ami_! What happened? You can tell big brother Francis!" Arthur immediately zoned himself out, opting to watch Alfred explain everything again for Francis.

Francis nodded every now and then, adding soothing comments here and there. Arthur was secretly astounded — did Francis truly understand Alfred's rambling? He had to grudgingly admit that was impressive, he himself didn't understand much other than the fact that Alfred was mourning over his unrequited love.

" _Oh non, c'est horrible_! Isn't it Arthur?" cajoled Francis, and Arthur jumped at being called suddenly. He coughed to cover his discomfort, "Uhh, yeah… My condolences for your loss… May I ask who she is? What's her name?" He winced, hoping that would successfully cover the fact that he wasn't fully paying attention.

"Name? I haven't caught her yet." Alfred blinked with utmost confusion in his eyes. Arthur blinked, bewildered. " _Caught_?! What do you mean, _caught_?!" He sat there with his mouth agape, completely dumbfounded. "I meant I haven't caught myself a Nidoqueen. Duh." He stared blankly at Arthur, who couldn't figure out what to say at this sudden disclosure.

"Arthur, you can't name Pokémon without catching them first. Anyone who has the remotest idea of Pokémon knows that!" Alfred gradually explained as if Arthur was a toddler who didn't grasp the concept of biology.

"Wait… You're telling me all this time… You were talking about a _Pokémon_? What on _earth,_ have I been _listening_ to?" Arthur screeched. He just could _not_ believe this.

"Simple. A love story between a man and his Pokémon," replied Francis, matter-of-factly.

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(Note: **We apologize if anyone seems out of character; we've been reading lots of fanfic lately. We try and incorporate our own blend of characteristics that we feel fit, but we do tend to mess up and disagree.**... _Sorry...D:_ )


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